


solace

by mountaindews



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Implied Relationships, M/M, Spoilers for 000, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-11-07 06:16:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17955167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mountaindews/pseuds/mountaindews
Summary: “Is there anything else you deem worthy of reporting? About your physical condition, that is.”(...)“Anything.” He says again, with intent this time. “Lately I’m really enjoying watching the anthill in the residential quarters park with the deputy head.”





	solace

He winds up having to undergo another medical examination all the same. Because the deputy head might be powerful, and his all-pleasing smile is rumored to be able to shake archangels to the very core, but the supreme primarch harbors what feels like genuine care in his heart, and after seeing Sariel cough in the garden he escorts him to the door of the office himself.

 

Lucifer tells him about the singularity of his case – it sounds like a tale to Sariel’s ears, something completely separate and detached from his existence. A fable, something he might find in one of the skydweller books the supreme primarch seems to be so interested in.  _ It’s rare for a complete regeneration to occur in such a short amount of time, taking into account how much of the original body had been lost.  _ Sariel feels his body tingling slightly with those words, but nothing more. It’s barely different from what he usually feels speaking to the supreme primarch.  _ The very fact that you managed to keep fighting is amazing, Sariel.  _ He remembers the weight of his scythe in his hand and he’s not sure he can call it so, but he doesn’t question it.  _ And that you came back is a miracle. _ So he has to go through more checkups than anyone else, is the gist of it all. Whether he likes it or not is indifferent, because it’s a miracle – and miracles are only worth of being called such when there’s evidence to support them, to the point they look more like a solid-anchored physical law than the work of providence and luck. That is what they are taught, at least.

 

He doesn’t question it. Lucifer’s gentle words and intonation feel as much of an order as Lucilius’ curt instructions on where to stand and what to do, and his sharp questions demanding immediate response.

 

It’s agony. Sariel tries to hold his breath before Lucilius asks him if something’s wrong with his chest, and he lets it out before he can ask him to move his arms again, do just another movement, or to explain what he was thinking. Their creator knows for sure, knows best; knows better than anyone that the limiters to his intelligence make him act on impulse and don’t allow him to have explanations for his behavior most times. Yet, that doesn’t stop him from asking. So Sariel lets go of his hopes for this to be done as quickly as possible, and fixes his gaze somewhere between the ceiling and the opposite wall, where the only window of the office is covered in barely see-through curtains that allow for light to come in, but nothing else.

 

He wonders.

 

Skydweller imaginary has medical offices smelling heavily of chemicals and drugs, with pristine-looking crisp white walls and light coming in through big windows. They’re supposed to feel homely but foreign, and they’re uncanny for most. Children especially. He remembers from a book – or something he might have seen directly a long time ago, but can’t quite recall as a real scene – kids pulling their parents’ arms, weeping at the thought of walking in front of a doctor.

 

Sariel is not a skydweller, not a human. He doesn’t have anyone’s arm to pull or hand to grip. And their routine examinations office is but a desk and chairs snuck in between the rooms of the research facility; the air smells of nothing and the lights are as blinding as they are everywhere in their realm. There’s no escaping from Lucilius’ gaze as he stares at his arms intently, checking for issues in his regeneration and finding none. There’s just the usual nerve-wracking, ominous feeling in the pit of his stomach as Lucilius exhales a little too close.

 

“Is there anything else you deem worthy of reporting? About your physical condition, that is.”

 

“Anything?” He parrots, half mumbling, half wondering. Lucilius exhales again, a shorter puff, but this time he’s stepped back and gotten back behind his desk, scribbling something in a featureless looking journal.

 

“Anything. Have you noticed anything different since your regeneration? You’ve lost more than fifty percent of your body, after all. Though everything seems well, there might have been some internal changes you haven’t made me aware of.” Lucilius stops writing, but doesn’t let go of the pencil, or look back up to meet his eyes. “Yet.”

 

It’s as much of an order as it is a threat. Sariel raises a finger to his lips, lost in thought.

 

“Anything.” He says again, with intent this time. “Lately I’m really enjoying watching the anthill in the residential quarters park with the deputy head.”

 

Lucilius doesn’t seem surprised, and he doesn’t seem annoyed. He just nods absentmindedly, turning back to writing in the journal.

 

“Yes, he told me as much. Belial reported something along the lines of a discrepancy between your appearance and purpose, that is why I was more throughout than usual with you today. Though your body and your core both seem in optimal condition.”

 

“Belial…” It rolls fine on Lucilius’ tongue, but it feels wrong on his, so he doesn’t say it again. “The deputy asked me to join the fallen angels. That made me… happy.”

 

“Happy?”

 

Lucilius raises an eyebrow. He does not look up and he does not move, but there is a slight change to his tone, and it feels like an order to keep talking.

 

“Yes. Happy. I read skydwellers use that word to –”

 

“I know what  _ happy _ means, Sariel. That is not what I asked you.”

 

“I apologize.”

 

“It is fine. Please, keep talking to me. You did not use that word when you spoke to the deputy head, did you?”

 

“I didn’t.”

 

“And why is that?”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“I see.” Lucilius pushes away the journal. “Anything else?”

 

Evading their creator’s gaze is bad manners. Sariel looks down the same eventually, because the blue of Lucilius’ eyes is too much for him to handle, and thinking under pressure makes his head hurt.

 

“The deputy is spending quite some time with me. That makes me happy, as well. He says it’s to be sure he’ll be able to assign me a good position once I officially join the fallen angels. After all, it’s not like I can help with the research. So he follows me around and makes conversation with me.”

 

“He told me as much. Glad to see he’s been transparent enough in reporting his findings.” Lucilius smiles, but it has nothing of the blessing-like feel Lucifer’s smile gives off. It’s as sharp as his eyes and as burning as his questions. “It’s been quite selfish of you to keep your feelings of happiness to yourself, Sariel. They would have made Belial find more solace in his efforts of following you around.”

 

“So-solace?” That’s new. He’s not sure what Lucilius’ words mean just yet, but they make his heart sink a little. “Selfish?”

 

He doesn’t reply immediately. He stares at Sariel for what feels like too much the second it starts – feels his eyes focus on his face and his trembling lips, stripping him down bare. He doesn’t like it. It’s as though he’s seeing something Sariel himself doesn’t know it’s there, in his core, at the back of his mind. Before his hands can start shaking too, he speaks again, changing the topic.

 

“Belial reported that I might have made a mistake with you.” Crude and sharp like his usual sentences. “That while your personality doesn’t keep you from performing effortlessly in your missions, it causes you distress once you are back in this realm.” His eyes flash with something malicious, but his tone demands attention, so Sariel doesn’t think much of it. “That is the discrepancy he alluded to, but I assume there is more to it than meets the eye. You might not even be aware of it yet. Fascinating. While it had not been planned, of course, it sure makes me wonder just what you archangels are capable of, even with limitations to your thoughts.”

 

Sariel hangs his head before answering.

 

“He didn’t use the word  _ mistake _ with me.”

 

Lucilius laughs. It sounds like a scythe running through fabric and flesh and the bone beneath.

 

“My apologies. Belial has a habit of  _ running his mouth _ whenever he’s alone with me - he can get quite filthy, actually. He never learns.” He gives a cough, seemingly trying to regain his composure even though it hadn’t broken at all. “He’s also told me you seem to be against possessing a sense of self, or feelings. Which I found rather fascinating, considering you said yourself that you have been happy lately.”   
  
Sariel doesn’t hear much of the last sentence; or better, Lucilius keeps talking after that, but that’s the last sentence he registers as such – the rest is meaningless strings of words. He’s way too busy trying to drown out that new, foreign emotion in his chest; what feels like being burnt by a naked flame, cut through, exposed. A feeling that makes no sense, seeing as the examination is finished and this feels more like giving a report. A feeling that’s as distant as can be from the happy sunny-like warmth he feels when the deputy’s hand brushes his as they take turns crumbling stale bread for the anthill. And he knows humans have a name for that too. But it’s big and heavy and weighs his wings down.

 

It’s scary. He can’t take it anymore.

 

“Th-the deputy.” He sputters out, half choking. It catches Lucilius’ attention, as he’s not used to being interrupted. He doesn’t protest, though, and Sariel continues. “The deputy head told me there was a way to make me feel nothing in battle. And after the battle, too.” He clenches his teeth. “I want to try it. If it makes all feelings go away, I want to try it. If it helps the deputy – I want to try it.”

 

Lucilius smiles again. Much wider this time. But the honey in his voice is tempting and sated, and it sounds like a blessing, so Sariel doesn’t think much of it.

 

“Of course.”

 

Yet when he brings himself to look up, it hurts just as much as it did before.

**Author's Note:**

> i just needed to get it out of my system - wmtsb3 broke me and i'm not coping very well, as you see ((and neither is my beta reader emme)) ((thank you for letting me know my sentences were all over the place!))  
> kudos and comments are much appreciated! i'm kind of rusty with writing, but nonetheless, this had to be done  
> and if this ends up being inaccurate in a week, just remember; ball til you fall belisari gang


End file.
